


Sick

by SeafoamSoul



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 01:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeafoamSoul/pseuds/SeafoamSoul
Summary: Braun is sick and he doesn’t want to let you out of his sight. Aka Braun is a baby when he’s sick and he can’t be left alone.





	Sick

“Babeeeee!” Braun whined from the bedroom. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his pitiful tone of voice. Placing my book down on the coffee table, I ventured into our bedroom, stopping just inside the door.

“Yes?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe, stifling a laugh at my poor boyfriend in front of me. He was all sprawled out on the bed, two empty boxes of tissues on the ground next to him and a half empty one on the nightstand. He was shirtless, blanket covering most of his bottom half save for one leg poking out from under it. His hair was a mess and he had what looked to be a permanent pout affixed to his face.

“I don’t feel good,” he said, pout becoming even more prominent.

“Being sick will do that to you,” I replied, laughing at the scandalized look on his face.

“The love of your life is dying - dying of a mystery illness and you have time to make jokes? I’m dying,” Braun wailed, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “And you don’t even care.”

“You’re not dying.” I’m fairly certain I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my brain for a fleeting second. Braun was so overdramatic when he got sick. Every time he got sick, he was convinced it was the new plague or that he was dying. It was amazing to see this monster of a man be completely the opposite of what you expect when he gets sick.

“I can’t sleep, either. I can’t get comfortable. Come cuddle,” he said, holding his arms out to me.

“What if you get me sick?” I asked, small smile on my face. I knew I was going to go cuddle up in the bed with him, there was no way I wouldn’t. But I loved getting him a little riled up when he was like this.

“You’re gonna leave me to die alone?” he whined, looking completely dejected. “Lonely and sad, that’s how I’m gonna go out.”

“Oh, shut up, you big baby,” I smiled at him as I pushed myself off the doorframe, walking over to my side of the bed and climbing into it. Braun immediately positioned himself closer to me and I wrapped my arms around as much of him as I could, his head falling to my chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, his own arms wrapping around my midsection. I ran my hands through his hair, combing through the tangles with my fingers and soon his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Poor Braun had been sick for the past two days while he was on the road, and the traveling didn’t help at all. So by the time he got home to me, he was more pitiful than he ever had been before. He spent all day whining and complaining about how sick he was, how he was sure to die. I’m not quite sure how everyone on the roster dealt with him in such a state, but they must have done so effectively because I didn’t get any extra texts complaining about Braun’s travel experience.

I always thought it was weird that he acted like this when he got sick. For someone who’s such a dominant force in every other aspect of their life, at the first sign of an illness he turns a complete 180. Not that I’m complaining, of course. It’s nice to feel needed, and cuddling with Braun is definitely my favorite activity. Sometimes, however, he could get to be a bit much when sick. Like when he was entirely convinced one particular bout of allergies was going to put him in an early grave. I loved him, though, quirks and all.

==========================

“Hey sweet face,” I greeted Braun when he finally opened his eyes, burying his head further into my chest before turning to look at me with sleepy eyes.

“You talk to Nikki too much,” he said with a frown.

“Uh oh, someone’s grumpy,” I laughed, twirling a strand of his hair around my finger. “Do you want some soup or something?”

“I want to not be sick anymore,” Braun grumbled, kicking the blanket off of him completely.

“I know, baby. You just gotta give it some time,” I soothed, kissing his forehead as he brooded. “But do you think soup will help?”

“Maybe.” He sounded so disinterested, so defeated. I nodded, pressing another kiss to his forehead before sitting up so I could go to the kitchen and get his soup. The second I hit a sitting position, Braun’s face fell and his arms wrapped around my thighs, holding me still. “No, don’t go.”

“But you wanted soup,” I reminded him as he buried his face in my lap, curled around me like a sick child.

“Don’t leave me,” he whined, wrapping his arms tighter around my legs.

“Okay, okay. I’m right here.” I busied my hand in his mess of hair again, soothing him back to sleep. While he slept, I reached for my phone to text Sasha, asking her to bring over some chicken soup. There was no way I was getting myself out of the hold Braun had on me, and he needed to eat something, at least.

===============================

“Braun, baby, you really have to get up this time, alright?” Braun was slowly waking up, body tensing before relaxing again, finally sliding his arms out from under my legs as he sat up. His eyes were less tired, the severity of his pout had decreased. “Sasha brought you some soup that you need to eat, alright? And I’ll go get your medicine. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, yawning. I smiled, handing him the soup Sasha left on my bedside table and pressing a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room to grab his medicine.

He did look much better, which was great. His color had come back, and he was less grumpy and whiny, and I was hopeful that by tomorrow he would be fine. And then maybe we could spend the last day he was home doing more than lying in bed and eating soup.

Of course, in the words of Alanis Morissette, “life has a funny, funny way of sneaking up on you.” Which is exactly what happened. Braun was completely better by the next day, back to his usual, joking self. His voice was normal, the gruff tone I loved so much back as he made terrible jokes. And he was laughing instead of whining.

I, on the other hand, was in bed. Sick.

“Braun, come snuggle,” I whined, sniffling when he poked his head in the bedroom to check in on me.

“What if I get sick again?” he asked, apprehensive look on his face.

“Braun, I swear. I fucking cuddled with you when you were sick. Come snuggle or the next time you’re sick, you can deal with it yourself,” I threatened.

He knew it was an empty threat. There was no way I could ever let Braun just be sick and not take care of him. But when I get sick, I get angry. I hate being sick. Braun laughed at me, sliding into bed next to me. I immediately curled around him, head resting on his shoulder, face buried into his neck as I drifted off to sleep.


End file.
